


Tell Me Yours

by keraunoscopia



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 12:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16723824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/pseuds/keraunoscopia
Summary: “I don’t scare easy,” Vic says, her voice just a little teasing to lighten the mood, a little bit of false bravado, because she is scared. Scared that whatever he has to say is going to be something they can’t come back from, that it’s going to destroy what they have. “You can tell me,” she adds, a little softer, more sincere.





	Tell Me Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CyrusBreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/gifts).



The sun has long since sank behind the city skyline, and the cotton candy pinks and blues have faded into the sort of bruised hue that always seems to accompany falling snow at night time. It’s late, and should be dark, but instead the sky has that sort of eerie muted light has heavy flakes drift past open curtains. 

Their eyes adjusted to the darkness hours ago, just the soft light from the windows casting highlights on dewey skin, that quiet sort of stillness that only settles on winter nights, when the snow is falling. Lucas trails his fingertips over Vic’s bare shoulder, down her side to the subtle dip of her waist, the soft rise of her hip. 

They settled into this lazy haze an hour ago, after the passion and the intensity and the lust had relaxed into comfortable companionship. It’s not the first time they’ve spent the night together, but usually it starts later, usually they fall to sleep as soon as the heady lust has worn off. In the mornings is different, there’s the prelude, the build up to something more, or its a quick race for the shower. 

Vic shivers lightly under his touch, goosebumps rising up on her skin, in part because she can’t help the reaction, and in part because it’s overwhelmingly tender. She leans in, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, the slightly bitter smell of sweat and stale adrenaline still underlying his cologne, like cedar and cardamom. Her head is swimming, and she thinks to herself that maybe she could live in this moment forever, the whole weight of the world hanging just beyond the boundaries of this room, wrapped up in his arms, in his bed, consumed by his comforting, familiar scent. She brushes chapped lips over the skin on his neck, and he tilts his head. 

That’s what she loves the most about this really. He’s so responsive to her touch, yields so easily, so sweetly. He’s solid of course, and firm. He can be aggressive when she wants him to be, intense and strong. But when she pushes, he’s so quick to give, eager and pliant. 

Vic pulls back just a little, enough to meet his eyes, and even in the low light she’s struck by how blue his eyes are, how they seem to see straight through her, and her uncertainties, insecurities, all of the pretenses of false bravado she gives off. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much, and she’s torn between wanting to get lost in it and wanting to turn away, but his fingertips skate up her side again, before weaving into her unruly hair, framed like a halo around her head. 

“I like this,” Vic says finally, and her voice is just a little hoarse, that gravely sort of quality it takes on from her stretches of silence, and worn down by the sounds she’d made earlier, but still the parentheses around his smile deepen a little, and she’s encouraged to elaborate. “Us, I mean. I like it when it’s like this.” 

Lucas’s smile brightens, and then fades a little, and his hand settles on her cheek, a solid weight against her skin. Vic leans into it, tilting her head to press her lips against his palm. “There’s something I should tell you,” he says softly, voice nothing more than an unsteady whisper, and he lowers his gaze, can’t quite meet her eye. “And I’m not sure if this is the right time to say it, because I think it’ll sound presumptuous,” his thumb grazes her cheek, “but I don’t want to wait too long.”

Vic’s eyebrows furrow, and she pulls away a little, because the gravity in his tone settles like a rock in her stomach. She’s not sure she wants to know what he has to say, because it sounds like the sort of thing that could mean the end of this, whatever lovely, heady, intense sort of thing thing this is. 

“What is it?” She asks, unable to mask the uncertainty on her face, and even as Lucas’s gaze lifts to meet her own, finally, she has no idea what to think. She doesn’t want this to end, doesn’t want to lose this, doesn’t want to lose him. And she hadn’t realized how much she was afraid of that until now. 

“I…” his voice cracks, and he pulls away, settling on his back, eyes trained up at the ceiling, the yellowing ring of a water stain from when the upstairs neighbor’s tub overflowed. “I’m afraid if I tell you, you won’t look at me the same way, and I don’t know if I can handle that,” Lucas sighs softly, turning his head to look back at Vic as she props herself up on one elbow to look at him, free hand splayed across his bare chest. 

“I don’t scare easy,” Vic says, her voice just a little teasing to lighten the mood, a little bit of false bravado, because she is scared. Scared that whatever he has to say is going to be something they can’t come back from, that it’s going to destroy what they have. “You can tell me,” she adds, a little softer, more sincere. 

Lucas takes in an unsteady breath, and he reaches over to lace their fingers together, and Vic’s heart sort of breaks, because she can see how much he’s hurting, how much he thinks this is going to be the end, and she has no idea if that’s true, but she still doesn’t like how much it’s upsetting him. 

“I’ve told you before, that I was married before?” He asks, taking another breath, Vic just nods, not sure where this is going, but she moves her hands in gentle circles, and sometimes she can’t believe how much heat radiates from his skin, like he could set fires to anything close enough. “Twice,” he adds for good measure, studying her reaction, but Vic keeps her face measured, unreadable. 

“And you’ve said you were divorced twice,” Vic confirms, to sort of prod the conversation along, and because she’s sort of concerned that what he’s about to tell her is that he’s still married. 

Instead Lucas pauses, a heavy sort of silence that weighs on her chest like a brick. “Yeah, divorced twice. It was my fault,” he says softly, and Vic’s frown deepens. “I didn’t know the first time, and the second I thought it would be okay, and it was, until it wasn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Vic asks after a sort of heavy pause, because she’s not sure he’ll say more without prodding, and she needs him to clarify before her thoughts start to spiral into the fears she can’t come back from. 

Lucas rolls towards her, knees pulled up just a little, pulls his hand from hers and tucks under his head, and Vic feels split open, raw in front of him like this. “I can’t have kids. We tried, my first wife, and I eventually got tested. Once she knew she left me. And my second wife, she said she was okay with it before we got married, and then all of her friends started having kids, and it just…” Lucas sort of trails off, and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Oh,” Vic lets out a soft sigh, and Lucas flinches. Her head is spinning and she pauses for a moment, because it’s a lot of information to take in. Because it’s not just that Lucas can’t have children, it’s the fact that he’s thinking about kids with her, considering the possibility that they’ll get to the point where they could talk about having kids together. It means that at the very least, he can see a future with her, and that’s overwhelming, almost too much. 

She’s thirty, but she’s never really thought about it. She’s spent too many years trying to figure out what she wanted from a career, and now that she has that, she’s spent the past year and a half trying to be the best she can be. 

“I know we’re nowhere near that,” his voice is shakey and uncertain, laced with the history of rejection. “I know this is an uncomfortable conversation to have right now. But I think I’m falling for you, Victoria, and if this is a dealbreaker for you, I’d rather save myself the pain of letting this go further.” 

Vic settles her head back down into the pillow, to look him in the eye, to reach her hand out and trace it over the soft etched lines across his face. “I’ve never really thought about having kids, to be honest. I’ve never really been in a place to consider it,” she pauses, thoughtfully and Lucas’s face takes on a sort of pained expression, so she settles the palm of her hand on his neck, pulls him into a reassuring kiss. “I’ve never mentioned it because I don’t think it’s important. But I was adopted. So trust me when I say that biology has never mattered much to me.” 

Lucas lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it this entire time, shoulders sagging with relief, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t get a chance because Vic continues, “we’re not there yet. Maybe we will be eventually. When we are, we can figure it out then. But it’s not a dealbreaker for me.” 

Lucas doesn’t say anything to that either, just pulls her into another kiss, a little more forceful, a little more passionate, and when they break away, Vic is just a little out of breath, eyes wide as Lucas presses his lips to her forehead in a chaste kiss. “You know, I would say I’m sorry that your ex wives were so bitchy, but I’m a little selfish, and I’ve got to say I thoroughly enjoy being in your bed so…” she trails off with a suggestive, teasing smirk, and Lucas laughs, smile all the way to his eyes, tension melting away.


End file.
